


Dry

by Porkchop_Sandwiches



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Episode: s02e09 4 Days Out, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-20 12:18:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8248651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porkchop_Sandwiches/pseuds/Porkchop_Sandwiches
Summary: During "4 Days Out," Walt steps out of the RV for some space and fresh air.And as far as getting fresh air, by god, the atmosphere wasn’t suitable for deep, meditative inhales. It had a kind of thick, oppressive dryness that prompted Jesse to claim that morning he’d, “Totally fucking blow somebody for a Gatorade.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely based on a prompt someone asked me anonymously on Tumblr ages ago about Walt and Jesse's first time. It's set during "4 Days Out" and honestly not as in-depth as some of my other stories but I was going for succinct and just jump in there. The fact that there is more than one chapters tells you how that went. But, pretend Jane isn't in the picture, and thanks for reading :)

They reached a place in the cook where it only made sense for them both to take a break and Walt was using his to so to speak get some air. It was what he’d told Jesse at least. The boy’s temperate had been pricklier than typical and Walt reasoned he could use some space as well.

There was plenty of flat space surrounding him, extending so indefinitely that with the addition of the sun, made the vista seem as if it were tilting beneath Walt’s legs and onward. The feeling was both daunting and nauseating. And as far as getting fresh air, by god, the atmosphere wasn’t suitable for deep, meditative inhales. It had a kind of thick, oppressive dryness that prompted Jesse to claim that morning he’d, “Totally fucking blow somebody for a Gatorade.”

Walt shielded his eyes and momentarily pictured himself as a hunk of petrified fruit if he stayed out here much longer. He wondered if the boy had packed something with any sort of semblance of nutritional value as he opened the door.

“ _Shit_ ,” Jesse said.

Walt wasn’t sure which was more out of place: that Jesse had his hoodie draped across himself like a blanket despite the temperature being well in the low 100s or the unmistakable fact that Jesse appeared to be on the descent of nearly jumping out of his skin the second Jesse heard him.

The boy rubbed at his nose with a visible tremor in his hand. “Thought you were taking a walk, yo.”

“I never said that.”

Walt mentally catalogued everything they hauled out here in an attempt to pluck something among the list that Jesse could possibly be using to get high. Nothing stood out other than the more than obvious possibility that Jesse packed part of an old batch of their product for his own pleasure. It would be nearly impossible to detect any evidence by smell alone considering what they were cooking in here. Jesse must have known as much and assumed Walt to be an absolute imbecile.  

He stood where he was, swearing he could almost see Jesse sweating even with both fans on. Jesse’s gaze was darting everywhere in the structured clutter of their make-shift lab _except_ for Walt. He had a near death-grip on that black hoodie of his with the skulls.

Walt took a step closer and watched the boy’s hands shoot beneath the jacket as if trying to conceal something and that was more than enough of an incentive to raise Walt’s already high suspicions.

And what he’d intended to be one fell swoop, became more of an ungainly, stumbling struggle as he pulled hood-first at the oversized garment.

Jesse fiercely tugged back. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You’re hiding something and you are no use to me if you’re high.”

“It ain’t like that, Mr. White,” Jesse said.

The sincerity in his voice made Walt pause, which Jesse only used to yank more of the fabric back in his own hands, tweaking Walt’s left shoulder in the process. And with the advantage of both anger and the leverage of being on his feet, Walt soon wrenched the thing clear from Jesse’s fists.

He immediately regretted it.

Because Jesse’s lap was empty. His suit was also unzipped well past his groin. Which coincidentally was entirely exposed…and erect.

Walt turned away.

“I wasn’t fucking using. I was just jerking off, alright? I thought you’d be gone for more than fifteen fucking seconds.”

Walt wiped sweat from the back of his head and nodded with his eyes going from the door to the cot because while circumstances were less than comfortable, venturing outdoors again didn’t seem to be a viable option. Instead he chose to act as if this wasn’t an issue.

He took a seat on his cot facing away from Jesse and towards the nearest fan.

“Mr. White, we’ve been out here for almost two whole days and it was like the first time you left me the fuck alone and you know, it ain’t like you don’t spank it and I just needed…”

“Alright, Jesse,” he said. He couldn’t exactly brush it under the metaphorical rug if the boy never shut his mouth. “It’s fine. Leave it alone.”

Jesse didn’t say anything for maybe a solid minute.

He scoffed. “Yeah, alright. Now how’s about you go and leave _me_ alone?”

“If you’re hinting that I leave the RV, the answer is no.”

“I ain’t hinting, I’m straight up telling you, man.” His voice hardened and deepened and Walt didn’t quite like how it made his gut feel as if he swallowed cement. “Go…take a walk… _bitch_.”

“No, Jesse. The air is too dry and”—

“Yo, of course it’s dry. We’re in the _desert_.”

“ _And_ ,” Walt almost yelled. “I’m simply too tired and I don’t think I need to remind you of my medical condition, namely that it relates directly to my _lungs_.”

That seemed to shut him up.

Walt felt the muscles in his legs un-clench as he rested his palms on either side of him where his cot was unmade from Jesse’s most recent nap. He’d said Walt’s was the less “shitty” of the two and Walt was too engaged with whatever he was measuring at the time to argue. It may have been juvenile but Walt was suddenly offended that the boy had rolled his smell all over the blankets: cigarettes and Funyuns and that kind of aerosol antiperspirant men Jesse’s age sprayed all over themselves these days.

Walt began to breathe through his mouth instead and it was silent enough for Walt to hear each exhale reverberate through the blades of the fan.

“ _Fine_ ,” Jesse said with a rigid edge to his tone. “Just…just don’t turn around. Okay, asshole?”

Walt’s mouth dropped open perhaps a fraction of an inch in spite of his front of being nonchalant about this whole business.

Things had changed.

And it was as if Walt were simultaneously trying to block everything out while also listening to even the smallest change in Jesse’s movements.

There was certainly a “swish” here and there that Walt attributed to Jesse’s hazmat suit. Palming his forehead and getting a handful of sweaty, flushed skin, Walt could detect a sound of friction against something else that was wet and sticky inside the RV. Just thinking about the spatial logistics of the vehicle hammered home the fact that Jesse was doing was he was doing a mere four or so feet behind Walt.

It wasn’t as if he _wanted_ to look. He had no _interest_ in seeing such a thing. But morbid curiosity was something even scientists couldn’t refute.

So with a monumental amount of hesitation, he scratched at his jaw and feigned reaching a spot on his shoulder as his head moved along with the motion.

Luckily for Walt, Jesse’s eyes were closed. His jacket was at his feet with his ministrations out in the open, hand moving at a frenzied speed. Jesse swallowed thickly. His Adam’s apple shook. He turned his wrist at certain intervals and he briefly chewed at his bottom lip.   

It was pornographic and intimate while also oddly fixating like observing heat rising from the cracked, barren ground on a day like today.

There was also something unsettling about how the actual act of how Jesse was doing this didn’t align with Walt’s vague assumptions on the matter at hand. It upset Walt that he held any preconceived notions at all because it of course meant he’d even fleetingly considered anything of this sort. But, Jesse had an air about him when he really wanted something or he was pitching an idea: persuasive, attentive, perhaps a touch flirtatious. It was hard for Walt not to take it personally especially with the amount of time they’d spent together.

The boy was charming and Walt wasn’t immune to it. And with that in mind he allowed himself to compare and contrast how he’d thought this would be over quickly, how Jesse would jackoff in the same kind of quick-reward, easiest, fastest way possible that he conducted most everything else in his life.

While he was indeed still stroking himself with short, rapid pulls of his fist, this had gone on for an impressive duration. It had to have been over five minutes at least and that didn’t even factor in how long Jesse had been engaged before Walt interrupted.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jesse said.

The boy scrunched his nose though the crease soon relaxed as did the rest of him. His mouth remained open as he finished and Walt didn’t have enough time to look away before he’d been caught by a pair of widening eyes.

“What the fuck, Mr. White? I told you not to turn around! You watch the whole damn time?” His face was a violent shade of red. “Sick son of a bitch. What the hell’s wrong with you? I don’t even”—

He waved angrily in Walt’s direction though his hands quickly returned to shield himself below the waist before he shoved himself back inside his boxers and zipped up his suit.

Standing, he scowled at Walt. “Yo, dickhead, you saw mine. How’s about you take it out too ‘cause I ain’t gonna be the only one”—

Walt reached for the zipper of his own suit because this seemed to be a dare. Jesse was goading him. Walt had cowered in the face of so many occasions in life. This wasn’t going to be one of them.

Jesse made a sound like he was being strangled. “What the fuck? No. Stop! That’s totally _way_ more gay than this shit already is. I’m like just dehydrated or hungry. I just…I’m…I’m gonna grab a smoke.”

The boy stomped the short distance to the door before needing to retrace his heavy-footed steps in order to grab his lighter and a box of powdered doughnuts and his pack of cigarettes. With one hand shoving the door forward, heat and sunlight blasting inside, Jesse blinked into the distance and craned his neck back with something in his smirking, glaring expression that was both malicious and playful.

“You need a couple minutes? Want me take a walk? Give you some privacy, Mr. White?”

Maybe Walt was half-hard but it couldn’t have possibly been visible with the way he was slightly hunched over.

“Don’t be smart, you little _brat_. We still have a considerable amount of cooking to do. Don’t dawdle.”

Jesse mouthed a sarcastic “dawdle” to himself before slipping a cigarette between his lips and saluting Walt.

And Walt was frowning at the door swinging shut by the time he was back on his feet. Grumbling and depressing the heel of his hand between his legs, he began to ignore any remaining physical discomfort as he reached for a beaker. He had lung cancer for god’s sake so this very much paled in comparison. Plus, they truly did have a lot more cooking to get done and his excuse to be out here expired on Tuesday before he absolutely needed to be back home. If they finished early so be it. The sooner this was over, the better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is pretty bare-bones but it was kind of a challenge/experiment for myself. Thanks for reading!

Walt dreamed he was some sort of reptilian, winged, medieval creature with the horns of a rhino and the snout of a pig. His skin was scaled and it hurt. He was emitting fire from his open jaws onto the RV’s generator in attempt to ignite it back to life. But the exertion was making him feel faint. He wasn’t taking in any oxygen.

“Mr. White, _Mr. White_.”

There were hands on his shoulders and Walt realized he was coughing. More specifically, he was coughing speckles of blood against the inside of his forearm from where he was lying with his side against his cot. Jesse, buried in blankets and a garishly metallic-printed hoodie, was clapping Walt’s back. The boy looked both groggy and intensely concerned. Walt heard it like an echo in a tunnel: “Methylamine doesn’t go bad, does it?” He’d been caught in yet another deceptive act. Though this one seemed to take the sting _out_ instead of injecting more poison. They’d both been idiots in the last twelve or so hours.

Jesse sucked in a ragged breath, alerting Walt to how ruddy his eyes looked even in the gloomy dusk. He was shivering. Walt was too. It was well below freezing.

“You’re,” Jesse said, “You _are_ …getting sicker. It’s fucking spreading. 

Walt knew he didn’t deserve these tender, sympathetic sentiments spilling from Jesse. He was a stand-in for the boy’s aunt, back from the dead. But Walt also knew better than to verbalize as much so he instead awkwardly reached out for Jesse and returned the gesture of clapping him on the back. That was what they both did for a short period before Jesse’s face somehow wound up in the groove of Walt’s neck and Walt found himself cooing reassurances.

“It’s alright,” Walt said.

Jesse shook his head against Walt’s collarbone. “No, man. It’s not.”

Walt recalled that exuberant high-five they’d shared after calculating their profits, that comradery and closeness over a job well done. They’d tried to kill each other once on this very floor. Jesse knew things about Walt’s life that Skyler would maybe never hear. Wasn’t it in front of Jesse that he’d proclaimed that he was finally awake?

Walt started with a shocking pulse the second he felt the rasp of stubble on his cheek and then a mouth, hesitant and gentle. He glanced down as his chin followed the motion and Jesse kissed him.

Honestly too stunned to do anything, Walt froze for maybe a second before letting his mouth open and press into his. Jesse seemed to hum out something that sounded like relief.

This was absurd but Walt was soon pressing more of himself against Jesse, essentially rolling the boy underneath him amid the blankets and the boy’s sagging clothes they were both wearing. Walt’s hips rolled forward almost intuitively when Jesse nipped at Walt’s lower lip.

Jesse’s joints seemed to lock up as he pulled away.

“Yo, Mr. White. I know I like…did that or whatever, but we ain’t…we’re not gonna,” Jesse said. He cleared his throat. “I don’t want you in my ass, alright man?”

“That’s quite a leap,” Walt said. Because it was and Walt had no inkling of an idea that it was even on the table.

Jesse snorted before fidgeting a little and oh, it appeared that Walt had fallen between the boy’s thighs.

“You, uh,” Jesse said, voice thick and gritty, the sound like the desert’s warm, gusting breath. He tilted his hips up. “You can touch it if you want.”

Something about the wording made Walt feel like the lascivious old man Jesse seemed so sure he was. But in the dusty shadows surrounding them, Walt couldn’t tell if Jesse was hard and he wanted to know. Palming him through his blue jeans, Walt felt a warm swell of both pride and the boy. He began to rub Jesse up and down, and Jesse’s face was back in the curvature of Walt’s neck, though a little higher this time. Walt could feel Jesse panting balmy against his chilled skin.

Jesse snickered. “Homo.”

It may have packed more of a punch if the boy hadn’t end that accusation with a moan.

Walt smiled in the dark.

“Seriously, man,” Jesse whispered as he raised his pelvis. “You can touch it, like you know, for real.”

Walt wasn’t quite sure what he meant until Jesse tugged at Walt’s wrist, his touch icy but slow and considerate, cupping the back of his hand, and slipping them both easily past the boy’s gaping waist band of his jeans, then inside his boxers.

“You’re very warm here,” Walt said. And that was only because he had no idea of what else to say and maybe saying moronic things was catching this late at night.

Jesse snickered again.

But after a moment to get a grip, Jesse released Walt’s knuckles and left him to his own devices only briefly before rutting up into Walt’s hand. At that point Walt only needed to keep still as Jesse humped his palm.

“ _Mr. White_ ,” Jesse said, just shy above a whisper.

And it was all over much faster than when Jesse had done this completely on his own, which Walt noticed.

Jesse flicked his gaze up. “You…want me to do you or whatever? Like return the favor?”

Walt shrugged. “Do you still want a Gatorade?”  

He wasn’t exactly sure how much of that was a joke or if Jesse even remembered what he’d said back when it was still blisteringly hot, but he was certain it was nervousness that made Jesse swipe his tongue across his upper lip. Jesse’s whole head rolled with his eyes as he did that thing with his jaw when he was irritated but also when Walt called him out on something.    

“Look, yo. This is some one-time shit, alright? And don’t even fucking _try_ face-fucking me, don’t ask me to do this again, and don’t even think about asking any questions, you dig me?”

Walt did his best to look sincere and agreeable all the while feeling a heavy concoction of exhilaration and panic heavy somewhere in the vicinity of his chest cavity.

Jesse bumped his kneed into Walt’s crotch. “Yo, let me here you say it.”    

“I understand, Jesse. I can…dig it.”

Jesse shook his head petulantly when Walt coughed around a smirk though there was a hint of a smile there too.

“ _Oh my god_ , just shut the fuck up.”

Walt was more than willing to comply, especially with how stealthily Jesse was able to maneuver their positions and Walt was on his back and Jesse was yanking Walt’s pants down.

And Jesse’s mouth was on him.

Jesse’s mouth was on _all_ of him.

“ _Shit_ ,” Walt groaned.

He hadn’t had a blowjob in months and it only took perhaps fifteen seconds to understand why not asking questions was one of Jesse’s stipulations. Jesse knew was he was doing. If Walt didn’t know any better, this wasn’t the boy’s first time. His throat was too relaxed, mouth stretched wide, and his tongue, _fuck_ , his tongue knew _exactly_ what it was doing.  

“Good. _Shit_ , Jesse that’s good,” Walt said.

He didn’t put much thought into reaching down to put his fingers in Jesse’s hair, but Jesse looked up to glower at him as he batted Walt’s hand away. So he set them on his chest before letting them drop to the cot.

Walt’s climax was a swift, sweet surge that made him sleepier and dizzier than he’d been already.  

Jesse wiped his mouth with the side of his wrist, pausing before shoving his hands inside Walt’s jacket, plopping down on top of him and successfully burring Walt beneath a heap of blankets and the boy’s body heat. Walt felt as if he’d been pushed into a pile of leaves but it wasn’t at all unpleasant.

He took a beat to catch his breath and stare at the ceiling.

“Goodnight?” Walt said.

Jesse scoffed enough to flip up the part of fabric covering his face from where he had it pressed against Walt’s chest like he was trying to hear Walt’s heartbeat.

“Whatever, prick.”

Walt assumed that was Jesse’s own version of saying goodnight until he felt a hand carefully rubbing circles into his chest almost exactly where Walt’s skin had been inflamed from the chemo.

“You ever seen the third _Godfather_?” Jesse said.

Walt hummed in acknowledgement. “Several times. Why do you ask?”

“Movie’s a piece of shit, am I right?”

“It has its moments.”

Jesse sucked his teeth. “Like what?”

“Just when I was thought I was out, they pull me back in,” Walt said, raising his arms and snapping them back down.

The boy actually laughed.

“Alright you got me there, man. But like no amount of Pacino acting his ass off can make up for like that kitchen scene. Like where the fuck did Vincent and Mary hooking up even come from, you know? And….”

And Walt couldn’t believe it but even though he was hungrier, thirstier, and colder than he could remember, he suddenly felt like he was twelve years old again having a sleepover at the next door neighbor’s. No matter how fleeting he assumed it would last or how bizarre it truly was, it again wasn’t at all unpleasant.

 


End file.
